


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by lfg1986



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Boys Kissing, Emo Timmy, Excessive mentions of Mariah Carey, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Romance, Teeny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lfg1986/pseuds/lfg1986
Summary: Timmy is disappointed when Armie tells him he can't spend Christmas with him in NYC, instead needing to spend one more year in LA with his family before Armie's divorce is final.  To deal with the crushing blow, Timmy becomes obsessed with listening to the song "All I Want For Christmas Is You" by Mariah Carey on repeat in hopes that somehow Armie will make it to New York for Christmas after all.  Christmas morning arrives and Armie is nowhere to be found.  But a surprise gift leads to an unexpected twist of fate.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 21
Kudos: 145





	All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, everyone!! I was originally hoping to post this for Christmas, but the best laid plans and all. :/ So I'm a week late but it's still the holiday season, so I hope you can enjoy a bit of Christmas magic with this fun little story that nibbled at me until I was forced to write it. 
> 
> Fun fact, *I* might be slightly obsessed with this song and actually do have the first few notes of it as my text tone. So I am totally Timmy in this fic. XD
> 
> I hope you enjoy! <333

“I hate that you’re not going to be here tomorrow.”

The tired sigh that emanates from the other end of the line cuts through him like a knife. “You know I can’t, babe. I’m really sorry. I promise, next year we will go all out, do Christmas right, together. We just have to be patient for one more year, then I’m all yours.” Armie’s plaintive declaration is a nice reassurance of what they are working toward in the future, but it does nothing to help Timmy’s current predicament of facing Christmas alone in New York while Armie is in L.A. with his family.

He knows he’s being selfish and unfair, that Armie is doing everything he can to make sure they have a real shot at a future together, making meticulous arrangements for what will happen once Armie’s divorce goes public. And unfortunately, that means Armie spending one more Christmas playing happily married family man while Timmy is left on his own missing the love of his life.

It’s Timmy’s turn to sigh, flopping back on the bed in defeat, Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” playing faintly in the background. “I know. I’m sorry. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be there soon, and we can finally spend some real time together.”

Eyes squeezing closed, Timmy knows Armie is right. “Yeah, I can’t wait for that.”

A beat of silence passes before Armie speaks again. “Listen, I know all this waiting has been hard on you, but just hang in there a little longer. It’s almost over.” There’s a bit of commotion over the line, muffled voices and the unmistakable sound of Harper’s giggle. Another few seconds of shuffling noises go by before Armie’s voice comes back clearly on the other end. “I gotta go, babe. I’ll check in tomorrow when I can. I love you. Merry Christmas.”

Pushing past the lump in his throat, he manages a halfway convincing, “Merry Christmas,” before he clears his throat and adds in total sincerity, “I love you, too.”

The phone flops on the bed beside him as he ends the call, and he turns the volume up on the music. At least Mariah Carey understands his plight. He puts the song to play on repeat, as he has done many times over the past few weeks, and somewhere around the fifth time Mariah is proclaiming she’ll be waiting underneath the mistletoe, Timmy is full on jumping around the room singing along at the top of his lungs. It makes him feel marginally better to dance out his disappointment of being apart from Armie on Christmas.

Despite logic telling him otherwise, there’s still a tiny glimmer of hope that when he opens his eyes the next morning, Armie will be there lying next to him, all soft and warm and sleepy from the plane ride. He swallows the frustrated groan that threatens to escape when he wakes to find himself still alone in the giant bed, and then silently chastises himself for expecting anything else.

After a few seconds of blindly fumbling for his phone, he tries not to be upset when there are no missed calls or messages from Armie. It’s three hours earlier in L.A. and he knows Armie is probably still sleeping. He still has a couple of hours to kill before he heads over to his mom’s, so he decides to put on Home Alone and tries not to think about how it’s Armie’s favorite Christmas movie and that they should be watching it together.

He’s just stepping out of the elevator of the hotel he’s been living in on and off since he wrapped Dune when the beginning notes of “All I Want For Christmas Is You” ring out from his pocket, signaling a text from Armie. When Armie had told him that they wouldn’t be able to spend this Christmas together, he’d programmed it as his custom text tone as a way of dealing with it. The front desk manager calls out a “Merry Christmas” to him as he makes his way to the door, and he returns it with a wave and a smile before pulling the phone from his pocket as he pushes out into the cold December morning.

Warmth spreads through his chest despite the near freezing temperature as he looks down at the message Armie sent. It’s a picture of him with a sleeping Ford on one shoulder and a wide-eyed Harper smiling excitedly at the camera on the other side, and the softest look in his eyes that makes Timmy’s heart skip a beat. The caption reads, < _Merry Christmas, baby. I can’t wait to give you your present. Soon._ >

As adorable as the picture is, he can’t help but feel a small tinge of sadness looking at it, wishing he were there with them. In an effort to shake off the feeling, he goes with a lighthearted response. < _Tease. Soon can’t come soon enough._ > He quickly snaps a selfie of himself as he walks to the subway station, his head lowered so a few curls fall forward over his hooded eyes, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in a seductive expression. < _I’ll be waiting_.>

The response comes just as he’s stepped onto the subway car, grabbing hold of the pole in the middle to allow the woman with a wailing infant to take the last available seat. He grins at his screen when he sees Armie’s reaction to his text. < _Now who’s the tease?_ > Before he has the chance to type out a reply, another message comes through. < _Seriously though, I can’t wait to see your face when you see what I got you. I think you’re going to really love it. ;)_ >

His curiosity sufficiently piqued, he’s now even more frustrated that he has to wait another few weeks to find out what has Armie so excited. As the subway comes up on his stop, he types out a quick, < _I’m sure I will, if it comes from you_.> Once he gets back up to street level, he adds, < _Merry Christmas, Armie. Have a great time with your family and give the kids kisses from me. *heart emoji*_ >

A simple, < _Will do. Same for your mom. *kissy heart emoji*_ > comes back a minute later just as he’s turning onto the street where his mom still lives in the same apartment he grew up in. He passes a handful of people along the way, exchanging a sad, knowing smile with a guy who was also clearly spending the holiday apart from his true love.

Opening the door to his childhood apartment, the unmistakable scent of his mother’s roast fills his senses. The Chalamets don’t usually make a huge deal out of Christmas, just exchanging one gift each and spending the day playing board games together, then his mother makes dinner for anyone who wishes to drop by. It’s not nearly as grand or traditional as what Armie does with his family, but it’s always worked fine for them.

He finds his mother in the kitchen, a smear of flour on her sleeve. His heart warms when she sees him and her eyes light up. “Hey, baby! Merry Christmas!” He kisses her cheek and returns the greeting. After removing the 3 layers of jackets and hoodies he’s got on, he offers his assistance in preparing the side dishes for the meal. But when she catches him sneaking bites of the food for the third time, she banishes him from the kitchen until they open presents.

Sprawling sideways over his old twin-sized bed, his mind wanders to Armie, wondering if they had started opening gifts yet, and what he had gotten for the kids this year. Before long, he’s deep in his missing Armie feels and digs out his old Bluetooth speaker, hitting play on the song that has quickly become his anthem.

Half an hour later, a soft knock comes from his door a few seconds before his mom shuffles into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him as Mariah Carey’s high notes float through the room. “Look, T, I know you miss Armie. But you know his situation is complicated. You just have to trust that he’s doing what’s best for both of you right now. It won’t be like this forever.”

A gentle hand settles over his where it lays on the bed as he lets out a resigned sigh. “Yeah, I know you’re right. Can I just…have a few more minutes alone please? I promise by the time everyone gets here I’ll be in a better mood.”

“Sure, baby.” Nicole releases his hand and rubs over his knee soothingly a few times before moving back toward the door. But before she walks through it, she stops and turns back to him. “But for the love of God, please put on a different song. If I have to hear this one more time, I _will_ kick you out of this apartment. Christmas or no Christmas.”

His bottom lip pops out in a pout, not understanding how anyone could not love this iconic song. When she just glares back at him unwavering, he rolls his eyes and moves to find his phone to change the song. The first crooning notes of “Blue Christmas” echo through the room as the door closes, and he can just make out the weary groan coming from his mother as she moves back down the hall. Well, she said to change the song, she didn’t specify that it had to be cheery.

But true to his word, once it’s time for them to exchange gifts, he’s forced himself into a better mood, trying his best to focus on the amazing family and friends who are here and not the one who isn’t. They spend the day laughing and playing several rounds of Jenga before switching to Trivial Pursuit until it was time to eat dinner.

It’s almost 10:30 when he finally starts making his way back to his hotel after a couple glasses of wine and a piece of his mother’s amazing coffeecake for dessert. The subway is almost completely empty when he steps on, only one other person curled up in a seat on the far end of the car. When he checks his phone, there’s a new text from Will, but nothing else from Armie. His mother’s words ring in his ears, and he tries not to let disappointment take hold, but he isn’t entirely successful.

As he approaches the hotel he currently calls home, he lets out a tired sigh. It hadn’t been the easiest decision to give up his apartment earlier in the year, but with being gone for so many months, first with filming Dune and then with promo for two different movies directly after, it made the most logical sense. Still, he misses having a permanent place to call “his” in the city. It’s been his home for all his life, and he can’t imagine living anywhere else.

Before he can shuffle past the lobby toward the elevator, the night clerk calls him over. “Mr. Chalamet, there’s a package here for you.”

Not sure who would have left something at the front desk for him instead of sending it to his room, he makes his way over to see what it is. He’s handed a small rectangular box with a note attached that reads “Open immediately”. Eyebrows quirking in interest, he carefully lifts the lid of the box to reveal a simple gold key and a white notecard with an address.

Before he has a chance to decipher the meaning of the gift, the clerk pulls him out of his thoughts. “Your car is ready and waiting outside for you, Mr. Chalamet.”

It takes him a minute to register what he’d said, and even when he does, it doesn’t make any sense. “My… _what_? I didn’t order a car. What’s going on?”

The clerk simply nods to the glass doors, through which he can see a black SUV waiting in front of the entrance. “I…” He swallows, searching his brain for any explanation he can think of for what is happening. It’s only then he thinks to turn the notecard over, where he finds a new piece of the puzzle. _For our new life together. -A_

So it was from Armie. But he still can’t figure out what it all means. The clerk clears his throat behind him. “Sir, is everything all right?”

Not entirely sure how to answer that, he nods slowly, eyes still on the small key and the mysterious address. He recognizes it as being in the northern part of Manhattan, but he’s not overly familiar with the area, so he has no idea what any of this means.

Throwing a distracted “thanks” to the clerk, he hesitantly makes his way back outside into the crisp night air. The driver steps out and gives him a nod, like this is all just completely normal, and he does his best not to panic as he climbs into the backseat. Asking the driver what’s going on doesn’t help, since he only shrugs and says he’s just following orders and doesn’t ask questions.

When he tries to call Armie to find out what this is all about, the call goes straight to voicemail. A knot starts to form in his stomach as his mind starts spinning all sorts of crazy scenarios. The further they get from downtown, the more he wonders what Armie could possibly be up to. He doesn’t usually go this far north, and when they turn down a quiet street of single, detached houses, his confusion level is sky high.

The car pulls to a stop in front of a beautiful brownstone house, but there are no cars in the driveway and it appears that all the lights inside are off. “Hey, are you sure this is the right place? It doesn’t look like there’s anyone here.” He peers out into the dark, trying to make out something, _anything_ , that might let him know why he was here. He’s fairly sure Armie wouldn’t be sending him into anything dangerous, but that only vaguely helps to settle his nerves about the whole thing.

“Yep, this is it.” When the driver doesn’t give any more information, he takes a deep breath and thanks him, stepping out of the vehicle and up the long paved driveway. He gets to the door and raises his hand to knock, trying to keep from shaking from both the cold and a healthy dose of fear, when he notices the address on the side of the house. His eyebrows crawl up his forehead as he slowly reaches into the inside pocket of his coat where he had shoved the box with the key earlier. When he removes the lid once more, the same address that he is currently standing in front of stares back at him.

His hand reaches out to twist the doorknob gently, only to find it, predictably, locked. Figuring it was worth a shot, he takes the key from the box and slides it into the lock, clenching his eyes shut as he turns it. When he feels the lock click, his eyes spring open in surprise. He hadn’t actually expected it to work.

Now even more confused than before, he gently pushes the door to the house open and looks around. The house is completely empty of furniture or other decor, but there are two lines of burning candles along the beautiful hardwood floor to light a pathway into the house. Curiosity overtakes apprehension as he slowly follows the lighted path through the main entrance and hallway, along the side of the kitchen and into the spacious living room, where he finds a full fire roaring in the hearth and a large blanket laid out a few feet in front of it with a basket containing wine and two glasses set on top.

He stares down at the spread, perplexed. A glimmer of white catches in the corner of his eye, and he looks up to see a small envelope taped to the front of the mantel. He walks over and removes it, tearing the seal open carefully. His brows draw together in confusion as he stares down at the words “turn around” written in a delicate scrawl.

All the breath in his body comes rushing out of him when he does as the card says and turns to find Armie standing a few years away from him under the archway, a small sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above him. “I hope I got it right. I can never remember which one of us is supposed to be under the mistletoe.”

Tears spring to his eyes at the sound of Armie’s voice, and after a few seconds of being too stunned to move, he finally snaps out of it and all but launches himself at Armie in a running hug. He feels more than hears the “oof” Armie lets out as their bodies collide, reaching up on his toes to bring their lips together in a passionate kiss.

He feels Armie melt into it immediately, and when strong arms wrap around his back and pull him closer, he feels like he might burst with happiness. They kiss for long minutes before Armie finally pulls back, a giant satisfied grin on his face. Heart fluttering a mile a minute, all he can do it look up into the face of the man he loves and try not to cry.

A few seconds go by before he finally remembers what Armie had said when he’d first found him waiting there. “Wait, got what right?”

There’s a mysterious twinkle in Armie’s eye that Timmy can’t quite place. “From the song. You know, the one you’ve been playing _nonstop_ for weeks. You’re not exactly subtle, you know.” A chuckle echoes through the room as Armie leans down to playfully nip at his nose.

Heat flushes up his neck as understanding dawns on him. A sheepish smile breaks out over his face. “It’s Mariah Carey! It’s iconic!” He gives a weak shrug as he knows his attempts to defend himself are most likely futile.

A placating smile settles over Armie’s features as he snorts another laugh. “Yeah, I know, babe.” At Timmy’s pout, a genuine laugh rips from Armie’s throat and it floods his chest with warmth. He can never get enough of that sound.

He nuzzles into Armie’s chest for a few seconds, trying to hide his embarrassment while also enjoying the comforting feeling of Armie’s hands rubbing up and down his back. But then it hits him. He pushes off Armie suddenly, worry etched in his features. “Wait, how can you be here, now? You were supposed to be with your family. Oh god, Liz is going to kill you, and then me!”

Before he can work himself into a full-blown panic, Armie’s hand settles over his face in a gentle caress. “Whoa, hold on. She’s not going to kill anyone.” Armie waits until he sees the terror in his eyes lessen a bit before continuing. “She knows I’m here. I’ve had it worked out for weeks. I spent the morning with the kids and made sure to get all their new toys set up so they could be entertained for a while, then I took the afternoon flight out. I came straight here from the airport. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Timmy’s brows knit together as he tries to make sense of Armie’s explanation. He’s relieved to know apparently Liz had been ok with this, but there was still something he didn’t understand. “Yeah, about that, where exactly is ‘ _here_ ’? Who’s house is this?” His eyes sweep the room, taking in more of the details of the place now that he feels more stable with Armie there with him.

He watches as Armie’s eyes light up and his lips twist into a wide grin. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

Timmy eyes him carefully. He’s not sure why Armie cares what he thinks of some random house, but he goes with it in the hopes that he will get a full explanation soon. “Uh yeah…I mean it’s an empty house in the middle of the suburbs, but it’s nice, I guess.” 

Apparently that was the right thing to answer, because now Armie’s eyes are beaming at him in pure joy. “Good, because…it’s ours. Or well, it will be, once I officially sign for it.”

You could hear a pin drop in the several seconds following Armie’s statement, Timmy gaping at him in stunned silence while he tries to process what Armie just said. When he scrapes his jaw from the floor, he manages to stutter out, “You… _what_?!” He’s too focused on not having a heart attack to be embarrassed by the way his voice morphs into a high-pitched squeak on the last word.

But Armie seems to not even notice his current state, continuing on like just _buying a house_ out of the blue is completely normal. “I figured since I’m going to be here for several months for the play, I would need a home base for the kids when they visit, and your hotel room is not exactly ideal. Plus,” he steps forward to wind his arms around Timmy’s waist and pull him closer, lowering his voice to a gentle murmur. “I want to put down roots here, with you. It will be our first home, that we build together. And I know it’s a bit out of the way from where you’re used to, and if you totally hate it, we’ll find another place that you love instead. I just thought it might be nice for us to have this thing that’s just ours, away from the bustle of the city but still within reach of everything we need there.”

Timmy’s pretty sure if Armie wasn’t essentially holding him up right now, he would be face-down on the floor, no longer able to support his own weight as he tries to wrap his head around the immensity of this situation. To his credit, Armie is patient and gives him several seconds to absorb the information and work it through before he speaks again. “So…what do you think?”

It takes several attempts of opening his mouth before any sound actually comes out. “You…you bought me a _house_?” The fact that several dogs don’t come running at the pitch of his voice is pretty miraculous.

Armie’s lips twitch up in a half smirk as he arches one eyebrow. “No…I bought _us_ a house.” His features smooth out into a soft expression, raising a hand to tuck one of Timmy’s unruly curls behind his ear. “I want to start my new life with you, Timmy. Here, in this house. But only if you want that, too.”

If he ever had any notions of denying this man anything, they all fly out the window the second their eyes meet and he sees his entire future staring back at him. His vision blurs as tears fill his eyes and his heart squeezes with so much love, he can barely breathe. Somehow, he manages to croak out a trembling, “Yes!” before he crashes his mouth into Armie’s, pouring every bit of emotion he’s feeling into the kiss.

Feeling Armie smile against his lips makes his heart stutter. He yelps in joyful surprise when Armie picks him up and swings him around, both of them giggling into each other’s mouths.

When Armie finally sets him back down, he’s lightheaded from the lack of air and grabs onto Armie for support. Armie leads them over to the blanket that he’d all but forgotten in the midst of everything else, and they sit cuddled up together, Timmy between Armie’s legs with his back to Armie’s chest.

Armie opens the wine and pours them each a glass. Time stands still as they sit together, enjoying the warmth created by both the fire and the wine. Somewhere in the middle of their second glass, Timmy shuffles around to face Armie to give him a soft kiss, which quickly turns into a heated makeout session, their wine glasses completely forgotten as they explore the heat of each other’s mouths.

When he feels Armie’s hands slide down into the back pockets of his pants and squeeze his ass, he lets out a low moan. Pulling back enough to catch his breath, he takes a minute to rake his eyes over Armie’s face. He looks completely debauched – lips puffy and slick, cheeks flushed bright red, pupils blown with lust – and a fire lights low in Timmy’s gut.

“Hey Armie? I know we don’t technically own this house yet but do you think…” He trails off, allowing Armie to work out the end of his sentence from the heated look in his eye.

Armie waits a beat before he moves back in, kissing along his cheek as he slides back to press his lips right below Timmy’s ear. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” The husky whisper makes Timmy shiver and bite his lip to stifle a moan.

He barely has time to recover from the ripple of pleasure that Armie’s voice in his ear produces when he finds himself on his back, Armie hovering above him as he slowly begins removing articles of clothing from both of them. They take their time, savoring each other’s bodies and teasing each other until they are both sweaty and trembling.

When Armie slides into him, slow and deep, he can’t help but think of all the times he will get to do this with Armie in this house, _their_ house, for as long as they want. He comes with Armie’s name on his lips while Armie presses deep into him, shivering through his own release moments later.

After they use the blanket to clean themselves up as much as possible, they stretch out on it together for long minutes, settling into their post-orgasm bliss. When Armie goes to stand, saying they should clean everything up and head back to the hotel for the night, Timmy grabs him arm. “No wait, I want to sleep here.”

Armie gives him a look like he’s crazy. “Sleep _where_? There’s nothing to sleep _on_ yet.”

Timmy rolls his eyes and looks pointedly at the blanket underneath them, which was only a little soiled and still had plenty of clean space for them to lay out comfortably on it. When Armie just scoffs at him, he narrows his eyes, determined to convince him. “What? You’ve slept on much worse. It’s nice and cozy here, and the fire will keep us warm.”

“Babe, we’re gonna have a lifetime to sleep in this house. I didn’t mean for us to start living here _tonight_. You really want to pass up a perfectly good king-sized bed and room service for breakfast in order to sleep on the ground in an empty house?”

A huff of exasperation leaves his lips before he can stop it. “But it’s _our_ empty house. And yes, we will have more nights, but this is our _first_ night, and it’s special.” He can see Armie wrestling with the decision, so he quickly adds a breathy, “ _Please_.”

He watches the fight go out of Armie’s eyes and hears a muttered, “Fuck,” as Armie runs a hand through his hair. “Ok fine, but you’re in charge of finding us food when everything opens again in the morning.”

Wide grin on his face and a swirl of excitement in his belly, he happily agrees. “Deal.” Armie lays back down and manages to mostly cover them with the part of the blanket that doesn’t have their drying come smeared on it. 

Timmy settles on Armie’s chest and smiles happily when he feels Armie press a soft kiss into his hair. “The things I do for you…” Warmth blooms in his chest, spreading outward to his extremities, making him feel sated and loved. He hums softly and focuses on the steady heartbeat underneath his ear as it lulls him into a sleepy haze.

Just as he’s about to drift off into unconsciousness, a soothing voice wafts over him. “Merry Christmas, Timmy. We’re finally home.” His last thought before sleep claims him is that he’s gonna have to send Mariah Carey a really amazing thank you gift.


End file.
